


Rescue Op

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Body Horror, Creepy Fluff, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-11 01:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: Okay, this hadn't been his plan on how to meet up with Sherry again, but when a friend of hers comes to request help in saving her after a sudden medical emergency, he was not going to leave her in a lurch.  It's just dealing with all of the changes, and all of the things that stayed the same is a little strange.





	Rescue Op

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/gifts).



“Go away!” The voice was labored, rougher, but still recognizably her.  Hearing that tiny, cute blonde’s voice come from up in the dead branches of the tree, from the mouth of _that thing_ , was so goddamn discordant that Jake was struck dumb staring, prompting her to shout it again, louder, more plaintively.

“Come down here.  Let’s talk.”  He tried to sound conciliatory.  She was still… okay was a stretch, but she seemed lucid.  J’avo were aggressive as Hell but generally as smart as people, he’d heard some things about what Plagas could do, Tyrants too.  But the thing hiding in a tree twenty feet above him wasn’t what he thought of when he thought ‘intelligent B.O.W.’, because B.O.W.s didn’t brood in trees. 

“No!” She yelled enough to make him jump.  Her voice broke, and she shuddered; and the branches she was hiding among shuddered with her, sending down a dusting of snow.

“Please, just come down.”  He shoved his revolver in his holster and held his arms out.

“I don’t want to!” She yelled.  Something screeched in the distance in reply.  Jake’s hand went back to his revolver.  “Please, I’m fine.  Just go!”

“Get down here, or I swear to God I’ll find an axe and chop that tree down.” He should’ve been more compassionate.  Balls deep in ice after a night of following tracks and dodging hunters, arguing with a B.O.W. stuck in a tree, the rush of worry, relief, terror, and fascination warring in his head, and her being stubborn was making it _really hard_.  He sucked in a breath, held it for a minute, then raised a hand.  “I’m sorry.”

There wasn’t any reply from the tree.

“Look, this is a big change.  But we can… just come down and let’s get somewhere warm and then we can talk, alright?  Whatever happened, it’s not your fault, and we can get this to work.” He shifted his weight from one food to another, shuddering in the cold.  Warm was good.  Warm would be good.  Warm and away from the Hunter-infested woods.  Shouldn’t the fucking lizards be hibernating?

When she spoke, her voice wavered a bit, all of her eyes blinking.  Her tone was softer now.  “It’s alright.  Yeah… warm would be good.”

He smiled, and _teeth_ glinted high above his head.  “Are you ready to come down now?”

She wasn’t.  Apparently she wanted to play twenty questions in a hunter infested forest, when she was in a tree.  “How did you find me, anyways?

“Trade secret.” Jake said in a conspiratorial tone, reminding himself as stressful as tonight was for him, te past week or so had been plenty worse for her.  A trade secret was a harmless response; conveyed none of the information she wanted, but it was nice and neutral.  Because ‘fucking _Redfields_ ’, while accurate as to why he was here, was probably not going to enhance her calm.

* * *

_“Thank you for meeting me, Mister Mueller.”  The redhead said, gripping her water glass.  “I imagine you must be busy, and I’d like to keep this as short as possible.”_

_“Ain’t it a little early for TerraSave to be on the ground here?” Jake aside, resting his elbows on the back of the booth he was sharing with this prospect, his mug of beer sitting neatly centered on the table.  They always showed up late to the party, to help the victims… and be seen for photo ops to bait in donors._

_“I’m not here in my official capacity.” She said, leaning close._

_“Funny, ‘cause you introduced yourself as a member of TerraSave with urgent business here.” Jake said, disinterestedly.  He had other prospects to meet—some ex-Wilpharma scientist had been cooking up, or dug up, or tripped over a stockpile of B.O.W.s, some late-model Hunters, basically.  Between the mining interests who wanted their investements looked over, local government who wanted the creatures dead, and competitors who wanted to take a look at this guy’s notes, there were a few options._

_“I am with Terrasave.” She confirmed.  He figured she’d offer some work as her bodyguard for this job.  “But I’m here for something personal.”_

_Personal was never a good sign.  He gestured towards her, palm facing the ceiling.  “Fine, it’s a personal job, not a TerraSave job.  So, who is the person I’m doing this job for?”_

_“My name is Claire Redfield.”  When Jake planted his hands on the table and made to get up, she raised her hand.  “Chris didn’t put me up to this and does not know I’m here.”_

_“Doesn’t matter.  I am getting outta dodge.”  Between Edonia and Lanshaing, he never wanted to hear the name ‘Redfield’ again.  Now was a good time to find some other B.O.W.-infested shithole to earn his keep at._

_“Sherry Birkin.”  Miss Redfield said.  That stopped him cold.  As he slumped back in the chair, glaring at her, she said “She was here for the D.S.O.”_

_Of course.  The D.S.O. and B.S.A.A., and every other acronym under the sun was freezing their balls off in the mountain, looking for monsters to kill and research to steal.  Still, if Sherry was here.  “Did something happen?”_

_“I don’t know the details… I heard this from a friend.  But yeah.  Something happened.” Claire nodded.  “She radioed In, she found Dr. Schroeder.  But something happened at his lab, and… well… I need someone to help me find her.”_

_“Can’t trust the other Redfield and his goons?”_

_“My brother is putting out fires somewhere else, and… my ‘friends’ say the D.S.O. shouldn’t actually be operating here, and the B.S.A.A. doesn’t know the D.S.O. is operating here, and in Sherry’s condition…”_

_“So she’s in trouble, and you figure that I’m the man for the job?”  Jake said, studying her intently.  “How much did your brother tell you about me…”_

_“Like I said, this has almost nothing to do with Chris.  He hasn’t said a word about you.”  She glared at him.  “The reason I’m here, in this bar, talking to you isn’t because I want some bargain-basement soldier of fortune.  I’m here because Sherry’s told me all about you.”_

_The pause went on for far too long before he asked “Well, what did she say?”_

_“She trusts you to do the right thing.  Was she right?”_

* * *

It took some more coaxing, and Sherry finally seemed to relent, and began to climb down.  Jake struggled to maintain a poker face when two big, dark limbs he assumed were tree branches were Sherry’s--an extra set of giant, clawed arms popping out of her shoulder blades.  Watching the monster gingerly try to figure out how to get down, slip, then start to fall got Jake moving to the base of the tree, arms outstretched.

He barely had time to realize he was standing right in the landing zone of a falling, clawed monster at least twice his size before Sherry managed to catch herself, claws rending deep into the wood.  She slowed herself enough for Jake to rethink the intelligence of trying to catch a B.O.W. as it fell.  He stepped back just in time for her to land with an incongruous “oof.”

He offered her a hand, managing not to flinch when one of her giant paws grabbed hold and almost dragged him to the ground as she lifted herself back up.  He couldn’t look her in her face, or what was left of it, as he asked, “Are you okay?”

A tumor on one of her big arms split open, and a big, green eye focused on him.  He shifted his glance to her face after all.  Dumb, stupid question.  She was at least a foot taller than him, hunched over as she was, with the skull-like face, _too many arms_ , the claws, and the reddish, rough hide that looked more like exposed muscle than skin.  Dumb fucking question.

“I’m fine.” Her tone was flat.  He couldn’t read any expression in her face, if _that_ could be termed a face, but he almost missed the plaintiveness in her voice while she was in the tree.  She was really fucking far from okay.

He should’ve run away screaming when he saw the thing scale that tree in a blind run from him. 

But she was still Sherry, right?  He fought in other people’s wars to make a buck, killed for money.  He was not a good person.  Hell, he was downright an asshole.  But he wasn’t enough of one to abandon her.

“C’mon, lets’ get you warmed up.”  Jake said, gesturing with his free hand.  Maybe he’d think of _something_ to say on the way.  Sherry’s face bobbed up and down and she stomped towards the direction he gestured.  He had to practically jog to keep up with her long, even strides, but kept ahold of her hand. 

* * *

_First order of business wasn’t finding Sherry, it was getting a truck.  Claire had said she might be hurt, and they’d need something big.  Pointed questions about just what her ‘condition’ would be were useless.  Claire let on that it was related to the G-virus she had been infected with.  Pursuing the mad doctor through his lab ended up with her becoming symptomatic somehow._

_Finding a truck was as simple as probing the edge of the quarantine zone.  A couple B.S.A.A. troops in deuce and a half made for an easy mark.  He counted two, and had Claire hang back—she was the client, after all, and whatever clusterfuck would ensure if Chris Redfield’s sister teamed with Albert Wesker’s son to break a B.S.A.A. quarantine would not be worth it._

_When the B.S.A.A. soldier spotted him, gestured for him to pull over, he did so, got out of his car, and complained loudly about people blocking the road in Edonian, gesturing wildly to the forest behind them.  The dumb look on the B.S.A.A. guy’s face said he had no clue what was being said, which confirmed by the man slowly asking, in English, if Jake knew about the quarantine._

_Some more complaints, and the B.S.A.A. guy turned to his fellow soldier and said “Sir?”_

_At this point, Jake was insulting their mothers in a language they certainly couldn’t understand.  Until the second agent gave a reply in grammatically perfect, albeit heavily accented, Edonian.  Well, fuck.  At least it got both of them within arm’s length._

_The palmstrike knocked the sergeant to the ground, clutching his face.  The first soldier's surprise at the sudden turn meant he hadn’t managed to level his rifle when Jake kicked out a leg and shoved, sending him sprawling.  He wrenched the man’s rifle out of his grasp and flung it, trying to wrestle him onto his stomach to tie his hands.  He had bound the mans wrists when the other soldier, the Edonian speaker, charged, knocking him to the side.  Hard headed bastard._

_On the ground, the second agent's gun in his face, Jake was pondering whether he should try to bullshit his way out in Edonian or English when something red slammed into the Agent.  Claire, in her garish parka, had somehow snuck up on the man.  Soon they had two hostages.  Her hood was low, so the man probably couldn't identify her._

_He didn't know why he had been surprised.  He'd did a little digging in the short time while they prepped for this little trip, and Claire Redfield apparently had an impulsive streak.  Something happened in France with Umbrella, she'd been accused of various illegalities against pharmaceutical companies, and was recorded decking a U.S. Senator.  Apparently she could be vicious when worried about friends._

_If she wasn't a Redfield, Jake thought he might've been able to like her._

* * *

The BSAA Agents were screaming incoherently under the tape he’d gagged them with.  The giant, six-limbed thing, scrambling into the back the truck with them, looming over them, irregular teeth jutting out of that death’s head face.  Screaming was understandable.

Hearing Sherry repeatedly apologize, growing increasingly distressed as they _kept_ it up, was infuriating.  Should’ve left them to freeze in a snowbank—Sherry did not need to be screamed at right now.

“She’s bad.”  He said watching the snow come down.

“Yeah.”  Claire replied, nodding.  She had only seen Sherry from the rear view mirror, and even then, fleetingly. 

“You ever see something like her before?”

“Yeah.” She did not elaborate.

“Raccoon City?”  Made sense, that was where Sherry got infected with the G-virus, and where she and Claire had met.  It made sense that Claire probably saw something pretty close to her.

“Yeah.” Okay, so Claire wasn’t quite up for conversation right now.  Not that he could really blame her, but they had business to discuss.

“How the Hell are we going to swing this?” He asked.  TerraSave couldn’t exactly take custody of a fifteen-foot-tall bioweapon, especially when a mercenary and a mysterious accomplice just beat the hell out of three B.S.A.A. agents to smuggle her out. 

“Do you know any abandoned buildings we could hide her in, for now?

“Sherry has a place.  D.S.O. fallback point.  Should be reasonably safe to set up.” He said.  She described it proudly, but, he’d seen her tradecraft first hand.  An American secret agent shouldn’t have ever been as guileless and earnest as she was.  But he had no better ideas.

“And them?” Claire asked, throwing her head back.  One of the BSAA agents was either sobbing or laughing through his gag, loud enough to hear.

“Could just give ‘em one of their radios and dump them in a snowbank.” Jake said.

“They could freeze.”

"They got a blanket.  And could huddle up for warmth." Jake said with a shrug.  "Can't keep 'em... could just shoot the two of them if leaving them outside is out."

* * *

“I can’t believe you just dropped them off at the side of the road.” Sherry said, hopping from the back of the truck, stretching all four of her arms over her head.  “It’s so cold out.”

“They’ll be fine.  We left them with a radio and a blanket.  Help isn’t too far away, and they were outside the area hunters were spotted.” Jake said.  Okay, getting a good look at her, as she stretched, was pretty bad.  She was still vaguely feminine in shape, vaguely.  Except in the extra limbs.  And face.  And feet.  And lack of skin… or was it skin, just red-gray? 

“Still…” Sherry said, then tensed.  Something caught her eye—the giant, bulbous eye on her shoulder, and her head snapped in that direction, hooklike teeth opening wide.  She turned, and Jake had to take a step back as one of those big hands, with claws as thick as his bicep, swung around at head level.  “C-Claire?!”

“Hi Sherry.” Claire said, with a forced grin.  “I… I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Wh-why are you here?  And how did you two…” She said, shifting her glance between Claire and Jake.

“She hired me to help find you.” Jake said.  “With the B.S.A.A. and the Hunters and everything, she was worried about you.”

“Did Leon tell you…” Sherry asked, tilting her head as Claire stepped forward. “…I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Claire asked.  She was quite obviously _not_ happy about what she was talking to, what happened to her friend, but Claire was doing a good job disguising it.  “Whatever happened in that lab wasn’t your fault.”

“If I had been a little more careful, or if I…”  The B.O.W. stepped forward, arms spread wide, before wrapping around Claire Redfield.  Not tightly, just enough to hold her.  “This wouldn’t have happened.”

“…we can always tear ourselves apart over what could’ve happened.”  Claire said, with a tone suggesting she’d done more than a little of that herself.  “But you’re alright, right?  We just… we have to figure things out.”

Claire had an affect on Sherry, Jake noted.  She was good at talking to the girl… B.O.W…. girl.  They chattered about topics that he had no frame of reference for, Claire gently leading Sherry away from ruminating about herself or her father, although the simple reality of the situation made that impossible for too long.

Eventually, Claire stood on her tiptoes and coiled an arm around the B.O.W.’s thick neck.  “I gotta go.  Pretend I just showed up with other TerraSave volunteers. You gonna be okay?”

Sherry took a step back.  “I…”

“I’ll keep an eye on her.” Jake interjected.  “’At’s what you’re paying me for, right?”

Claire smiled.  Jake waived his fees when Sherry became the job.  “Yeah.” 

* * *

The D.S.O. had set Sherry up in an abandoned warehouse, which she had provisioned herself, apparently.  Sherry on couch with cup of something warm, covered in blankets.  In one of her smaller hands, IE, the one large enough for the palm to cover a dinner plate, she was holding a mug of steaming powdered imitation hot chocolate.

Since Claire had left, Sherry had been talking to him mile a minute.  How when she finally tracked the mysterious Doctor Schroeder--with her either not knowing or not being able to talk about  _why_ the U.S. government was sending a clandestine agent after him--there was a firefight in his lab.  She didn't know what it was she was exposed to, but it happened quite fast.  She had constructed a half dozen ways she could've handled the mission flawlessly, without the spill happening; ranging from the plausible to the outlandish.  Several times, Jake had to remind her that 'what could've been' wasn't something she was supposed to be thinking about.

Not like what actually was was a better thing to think about.  Well... it was better, marginally.  Okay, Sherry was definitely terrifying to look at, but she  _was_ still Sherry.  Claire had let slip her father had been mostly mindless during Raccoon, maybe some flickers of humanity, but not much.  Sherry though?  She was telling a rambling story that worked in Claire Redfield and Derek Simmons while complimenting him on his skills at boiling water and dumping fake chocolate powder into it.

He used double what the directions said--he was glad to find she liked that.

Okay, this was going to take some getting used to--he'd seen B.O.W.s snarl.  He'd seen them be cunning in an animalistic way, or even brutally, humanly intelligent.  Seeing one babble on like a naïve girl in way over her head was new.  Then again, that was exactly what she was.  He was starting to pick up on it though.  She was obsessing over her failure, or perceived failure--the situation as described was bad, not the kind of thing he'd like to be ordered into.  She needed something else to think about.

A hundred topics ran through his head, and none seemed appropriate.  He'd like to try to distract her with something, some idle chat--he'd just like to do that for its own sake--but right now it didn't look like it'd work.  She kept rambling about how she let Schroeder get a way.  He could understand that; the feeling of a job left undone, maybe mixed with revenge?  Or just needing to get him for the sake of finality.

Claire said to keep her safe.  He'd seen the hunter carcasses in the forest.  The ones carved apart by claws the size of his arm.  Frankly, so long as they stayed one step ahead of the B.S.A.A., which wasn't looking like a terribly trying feat, there wasn't much that would jeopardize her safety.  And besides, Redfield would only be getting what she paid for.

"Sherry, I have an idea..."

**Author's Note:**

> You mentioned "some side effects to Sherry's G-virus infection" as a possible plot hook, and RE2 has me hyped as hell, so I wanted to do something with her having a family resemblance. I tried to balance the body horror, Jake's surly P.O.V., and attempting to write them with as much fluff as I could. Hopefully I accomplished that. 
> 
> You didn't mention Claire in your request, so if her inclusion bothers you, I'm sorry--it struck me that she could possibly be a catalyst for the story and I liked the idea probably more than it deserved, and got carried away.
> 
> Thank you for the prompt, it was super fun.


End file.
